"What I want you to do, Green, is to ring up Fairfield and get him out of the way on some pretext. Keep him here till I come back. I'm going to have a talk with that servant. If you can't get him on the 'phone, you'll have to go round and get him out somehow. I want a good man whom he doesn't know to
come to the Albany with me. Give me a chance to get there before you ring up."
"Very good, sir. Maxwell is free. I'll tell him you want him."
In a quarter of an hour Maxwell, an unobtrusive, well-dressed man, had taken up his station and was casually loitering where he could see all who entered or emerged from the Albany. Foyle himself was out of view, but he had a fine sight of his subordinate. Ten minutes elapsed. The well-dressed detective dropped the stick he was listlessly swinging between his fingers, and Foyle knew that Sir Ralph had risen to the bait. It remained to be found out whether the servant was still in the chambers.
Waiting just long enough for Fairfield to get a reasonable distance away, Foyle was whirled up in the lift to the baronet's rooms. His first pressure on the bell remained unanswered, but at a second and longer ring he was confronted by the upright figure of Roberts. The servant gave a little gasp of astonishment as he saw his visitor.
"Sir Ralph is out, sir," he stammered.
"Yes, I know," said the detective pleasantly. "I did not come here to see Sir Ralph, but to see you. You know who I am. Let me in, won't you?"
He pushed his way into the place and entered the sitting-room, Roberts following closely behind him. The man was evidently very nervous. Foyle sat down.
"Now, my man, you needn't feel nervous. Your master won't be back yet awhile. You came to my office to see me this morning, and left before I got
back. I've come to see what this important information you've got for me is."